Even though a man deep in quests and human mysteries, Sir John never liked intrigue and deception. Especially when he felt that he was becoming part of the intrigue and victim of deception and this time both had found him. Frank, whatever his name was had managed to deceive him with giving him something to keep that obviously has a special value without informing him and he had walked him into an intrigue that was counting already one murder in the present.

In the present because there was much more in the story that Sir John didn’t say and as most of his war stories had a lot of blood and death. Sir John only talked about sacrifice and bravery, very rarely about death and distraction but you could sense it that it was all there, it was in small pauses between sentences and shadows in his eyes.

And this minute his eyes were very dark. He had sat quiet looking out of the French window, cup of tea in one hand and a very rare move, a cigar on the other. There was anger in the slow way he was pulling the cigar to his mouth, inhale and then back on the arm of his chair.

“Damn,” he said after a while. “This man used me one more time and who knows what I have been carrying for so long.What was inside the cylinder apart of sand and dirty air?” I had no answers for my friend. The whole case was also baffling me and didn’t matter how many mystery books I tried to recall, nothing had prepared me for something like that.

“We have to find Frank.” He said emphasizing the name, “but I have absolutely no idea where to start.”

“What about the veterans’ house?” My question was more of a quick and unprepared suggestion to help my friend’s thinking than a real idea but somehow it seemed that I triggered a sequence of ideas in his always working brain and he stood up looking at me with round eyes.

“Brilliant. Brilliant idea my friend. How I hadn’t thought of that? Get ready time to go.”

“Shall we call Chief Inspector Christopher Bennett? It might be a good idea if he could join us. After all he is the one with more reason to look for Frank.”

“No way! Absolutely no. after all if Christopher is clever enough he has already thought about it.” I thought it was a mistake. I thought we should have tried to reach the Chief Inspector but Sir John was in no mood for more suggestions to this directions. So I followed.

To our luck a car was parked just in front Sir John’s door so after small exchange we both jumped in and we headed for the far east side of the city. Gradually beautiful white houses with round glass windows were replaced with brown brick buildings and wide parks with hard ground alleys. Here and there we could see a face with hollow eyes looking at us without seen us. Sir John didn’t say a word all the way and we arrived in front of a building painted with a faint dark green colour, he ordered the driver to wait for us and we both entered a place obviously left to rot from another time.

The smell of humiditywas overwhelming and there were pieces of the wall missing here and there. The furniture in the entrance hall was old and mismatched and the woman behind the desk a relic from a different era.

“How can I help you?” she asked when we reached her desk and while she tried to show professionalism her voice betrayed her curiosity. Obviously this was not a place that had often visitors and definitely not well mannered visitors like Sir John and I.

“Can you tell us in which room we can find Frank Arbours?” it was the first time for me to hear Franks full name but it never really mattered before. The woman looked at Sir John and obviously felt an air of authority so she didn’t hesitate, “room 18, second floor. I’m sorry the elevator doesn’t work.” Sir John didn’t say anything, just nodded a thank you and walked fast towards the steps leading upstairs on our right.

We both stood in front the dark brown room with the number 18 painted in white on the level of the eye, to catch up with our breath for a moment and then Sir John knocked loudly the door.

“Open up Frank, I know you are in there.” I swore inside me. How the hell I had let this small old man drag me again into a situation like that. It was only hours since we both had seen this very man we were knocking like mad his door now killing another man twice my size cold blood.

“Damn it Frank, open the bloody door. I know you are inside.” Sir John shouted louder with nothing coming from the inside. I moved a bit further back imagining a huge man carrying a knife and storming out of the door ready to kill us both with one move. But nothing happened.

Sir John tried the door and it moved, he looked at me with a question in his eyes and he opened the door wide and then he looked back at me only thing time the question had vanished from his eyes.

“I think now it is time to call Chief Inspector Christopher Bennett.” He said quietly and he entered the room.

Frank was there alright, as it was a lot of blood and his eyes frozen were looking at us. There was a big cut around his neck and the smell of blood had managed to beat even the smell of dampness in the room. Frank was fully dressed and I was sick. So I run outside and let my lunch, my breakfast and everything I had eaten the last twenty-four hours on the floor.

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“I have a strong sense of déjà vu,” said Chief Inspector Christopher Bennett when he entered the room forty minutes later. “The only missing face here is the pastor, what you think Sir John?” he added after looking for a bit at my poor posture in a corner outside the room.

Sit john didn’t answer straight away but he kept looking at the body like he was looking for something. “Indeed he does, doesn’t he, Christopher?”